


Fool(s)

by orenjikitty



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, F/F, Mercy 2.0, New Ult Mercy, Past Mercymaker, loosely based on a song, mercy was the other woman, timeline jumping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 10:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12297453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orenjikitty/pseuds/orenjikitty
Summary: Wise men say, Only fools rush in.What a fool Angela has been.





	Fool(s)

**Author's Note:**

> I shouldn't listen to songs that will give me ideas. I will foresake other stories I should have written a long time ago to write this instead.
> 
> Oh well. Enjoy...

Angela can still remember that day. It was sunny, sun streaming into the small living room of her grandparent’s flat. Her mother…

Her mother was already away. Called away to help in Germany.

Papa never lied to her. Not once did he ever lie.

“Mami is helping everyone, bärli,” she remembered him saying. “She’s very sorry she can’t be with us but Grosi and Ätti and I will celebrate your birthday with you.”

She remembered nodding, walking up the steps to her grandparents flat before knocking. In the distance there were sirens. Too close…

Far too close.

She didn’t ask what they were but she already knew.

Papa never lied to her.

“It’ll be alright, bärli, you’ll see,” he smiled down at her, his brown eyes filled with happiness and something else.

Angela only now knew it was sadness.

But it was her day; her 4th birthday. Her grandparents had offered their place to celebrate, her Grosi making her favourite cake for her. It was only after lunch and presents did she see it.

A small wooden guitar (ukulele she was immediately corrected) sitting on the shelf. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to it. “It’s tiny. Like me.”

Her father and grandparents laughed at the assertion. “Yes it is, bärli. Yes it is,” her Ätti said, picking her up easily as they walked over to the shelf. She looked back, Papa and Grosi talking quietly amongst themselves, Grosi eventually taking them into the kitchen so that Angela doesn’t see them anymore.

Her grandfather put her down in his chair, taking the instrument off the shelf to blow away the dust. He strummed it, notes coming out more ragged. “It needs some tuning. Give me a moment, bärli. Then I will sing for you.”

The prospect of her grandfather singing put a smile on her face. The man, a hardened firefighter, only really smiled for his family. Angela remembered all the scars he bore. The stories her mother told her about her father being able to carry two men out the building to save their lives.

Her family had always been in the service of others.

Angela knew she would be the same.

“Any requests?” he had asked, Angela looking at him with curiosity as he continued to tune the ukulele from his spot on the couch.

“You know,” she heard her grandmother say from her spot in the kitchen, her father beside her. Both their faces were smiling but their eyes couldn’t lie. Her grandfather nodded, starting to strum.

It had always fascinated her, the unspoken understanding her grandparents had between each other. They held an understanding that was forged by years of being together. Angela looked between them, trying to decipher what those two words meant but Ätti knew.

That’s all that mattered.

He started to sing. It was in a language she had yet to grasp, although she was starting to learn it. Mami and Papa taught the basics of French and High German since she was younger but this was in English.

She didn’t even know her grandfather spoke English til then. He tuned the ukulele one more time, looking directly at Grosi before starting the song again.

_Wise men say,_

_Only fools rush in._

_But I can’t help…_

It was the last time she would ever hear her grandfather sing. Or see her father smile. The months that followed that day were some of the worst she had ever faced. Angela can still remembered that day perfectly. It was the last shining memory of her childhood.

The rest…

The rest, she just wanted to forget.

* * *

She woke with a start, alarms blaring throughout the base. The heavy arm that made her felt safe was long gone, Fareeha already out the door, barking for answers. Angela followed in her own pace, contacts replacing her glasses, hands tying up her hair as Lena blinked past her to give Fareeha an update.

Talon.

Of course it was.

Nepal, she heard. What could they have wanted in Nepal? Unless…

“I’m coming,” she announced, Fareeha, Lena and Winston turning to her immediately. She stared them all down, Lena gulping. She of all people knew her when she was angry.

She was the one who found her yelling at Jack after all. After that day.

“Your new suit isn’t ready,” Fareeha reminded her, Angela fixing a glare at her superior officer and girlfriend. “We haven’t run the proper tests yet.”

“It’s ready and you know it,” Angela said, putting her foot down. The room contained some of the best minds the world had to offer. Each of them were distinguished in their field. “Fareeha..”

“It’s untested technology, Mercy,” Fareeha cut her off, voice tense. “If you are to hit the field with us, you will use your old suit.”

“No,” Angela argued. “You’ve seen it work. All of you have seen my files and tests. The new Valkyrie suit is ready.”

Fareeha glared, but said nothing. She would bring it up later, Angela knew. In the privacy of their quarters, but not here.

Not in front of the others.

The first lines of the song echoed in her mind. Was this foolish?

Only time would tell.

“Suit up then. We leave in 10,” Fareeha commanded, turning back to the map. Angela left without another word.

Her family was always serving others.

It was her turn now. And she wouldn’t fail them.

* * *

She was far from a fool. She knew that. Everyone knew that.

A fool wouldn’t have graduated Suma Cum Laude 3 times from 3 different universities before the age of 22.

A fool wouldn’t have been chosen to be the head of surgery or been made the CMO of an international task force before 25.

But she had been called a fool multiple times in her life.

Mostly by Ana Amari.

“Foolish girl” often accompanied the disapproving look on the older woman when she found Angela’s sorry state in her office. Her disregard for her own well being, her bullheaded pursuit of better, faster technologies that will help her heal the world.

“The pace you’re going, foolish girl, is too much,” Ana chided as she locked her out of her office again. “Take a break. Angela. You will break yourself if you don’t learn how to live outside of these walls. Here,” a ticket to some ballet in France, only an hour away from the Geneva Medical base. “Gerard has been asking people to come with him to see his wife. Get cleaned up. Go meet with Gerard and go see the ballet with him.”

Angela was about to argue but Ana fixed her with a stare.

“Yes Captain.”

* * *

_“I can’t find her anywhere.”_

_“Do another sweep, Tracer. I’ll cover the skies.”_

_“Pharah…”_

_“We can’t lose her, Genji. We...we just can’t.”_

* * *

Years.

It would be years before Angela heard the song played again. The same version her grandfather played that afternoon.

She had been given the day off after the 72 hour scientific marathon she, Winston and Mei had pulled. Not only did they stabilize a handful of plants from the moon, but they also managed to extract data from the drives given to them to start piecing the mystery that surrounded Horizon.

She had debated going back to her own projects but she decided it was still early enough in the day to enjoy some time for herself. It wasn’t often that she would be able to walk the grounds of the newly recommissioned Watchpoint: Gibraltar without people asking her questions left, right and centre.

Angela sighed, touching the familiar walls. Overwatch had reformed officially, flying under the banners of Helix Securities as a special task force. Familiar faces answered the recall, others, brand new but determined.

It was then that she heard the notes coming from above her. It called to her like a siren’s song. Same, familiar notes from a time she had forgotten about.

She followed it up the stairs, the accented voice of someone singing came through the door. It was softer, mellower than what she remembered. The strumming of the ukulele still carrying the same impact from before.

Her feet moved on their own, eventually turning the corner to find the one person she wasn’t expecting.

(Or she should have, considering how high up they were now.)

Fareeha smiled at her, thermos and some breakfast sitting by her as her fingers continued to play.

“Hi,” Fareeha greeted, not bothering to stop her strumming. "Care to join me? This is fresh coffee."

“Hi,” Angela greeted back. "Sure."

For the first time in years, she let herself genuinely smile.

* * *

_“Anything?”_

_“Nothing yet, Ana.”_

_“Keep looking. Check all the downed buildings. She couldn’t have flown that far.”_

_“That new tech of hers might have…”_

_“Don’t say it, Winston.”_

* * *

Foolish girl...

She’s heard it come from Widowmaker’s lips multiple times. She used it often enough to taunt Tracer.

But this is Amélie.

Was Amélie.

The same Amélie she spent…Angela shook her head, the blood on her face blurring her vision. That was in the past.

That was a mistake. She was young, she told herself. So was Amélie.

It was a mistake.

(No it wasn’t.)

They both knew what they were doing. Both knew the consequences of their actions.

Angela coughed, the nanites she was using to keep herself stable was now running low.

“Fuck…”

What a fool she’s been.

Amélie was gone. Widowmaker wasn’t Amélie. Not anymore.

Everything hurt…

She closed her eyes. She saw warmth, the smile of a woman she had grown to love. Learned to love.

The one that always offered her a hand even when she didn’t ask for one.

The one that drew her close, held her when she woke with nightmares, drenched in sweat and pain clawing in her mind.

The one who always smiled back, protected her countless of times on the battlefield. The same one she couldn’t help but fall in love with.

“Fareeha...”

* * *

_“Captain!”_

_“What is it, Lieutenant Song?”_

_“We found her!”_

_“We found Mercy!”_

_“On my way.”_

* * *

The sounds of machines slowly woke her. Blue eyes adjusted to the dimness of the hospital room, only the softness of a lamp at the corner making guiding her eyes.

“You foolish girl,” she heard, Angela looking to the woman by the door. Ana stood as like a sentinel, good eye giving her a glare. “What were you thinking?”

Angela groaned, sitting herself up. She felt weak. “How long?”

“That’s the first question you have? How long?”

“Ana…”

“Angela,” Ana replied only to sigh. “4 days.”

“Crap…”

“Crap doesn’t even begin to cover what happened out there,” Ana said, moving towards her now. There was a chair by her bed, the book Fareeha was reading before they left for the mission lay on the table by her bed. Fareeha must have been here too. “I forced her to take a shower. She…” Ana took the seat, Angela taking a good long look at the woman. “She hasn’t left your side since we found you.”

Ana was still strong for her age. She was still sharp, her mind and wit still in place even after all this time.

But she could tell the tiredness in her eyes. Angela had seen them before.

In her father.

In her mother.

In many of her close friends.

“What were you thinking, Angela?” Ana repeated. Angela turned away. She didn’t know what she was thinking. That she wasn’t actually thinking. “You’re not a combatant.”

“I needed to protect them,” Angela defended, hands tightening beneath the sheets. “I had to do what was right.”

“Sacrificing yourself isn’t going to make things right,” Ana lectured. Angela turned away, not wanting to meet Ana’s gaze. “Whatever you had with Widowmaker in the past is in the past.”

“You didn’t know her like I did,” Angela retorted.

“She was my pupil, Angela,” Ana replied. “You might have been her lover but she was still my student.”

Angela froze. Ana knew…

She turned to face the woman bearing the reminder of how deadly Widowmaker was. Ana “the one who lived” Amari. Horus herself.

“How long…”

“You’re not a combatant, Angela,” Ana reiterated. “You’re not a spy. You wear your emotions in your eyes.” Angela looked down, trying to process the information. “The way you two looked at each other. It was unmistakeable.”

Another sigh escaped the older woman, Angela still not able to meet her in the eye. She heard the chair scrape against the floor, the soft footsteps of Ana walking away from her. “Only fools rush in, Angela.”

_"And I know you’re not a fool."_

* * *

A frown was etched on her face, the remnants of the new Valkyrie suit lying on the table in front of her. Athena had briefed her that this was all they were to recover from the scene: a handful of shattered wing pieces, her halo/communicator fractured in half, and the bloodied chassis.

Angela looked at the bullet hole and felt the pain on her body herself.

She should have died. Would have died if it wasn’t for her nanites. The cane she was forced to use another reminder of her shape. She was a bird with clipped wings; grounded until further notice.

Ana’s orders, backed by Winston and Fareeha.

No one argued it. She didn’t. She accepted it. She knew her mistake. Never before did she back down from it. Physiotherapy sessions were set, Lucio helping her throughout, most of the other agents giving her space.

Mercy. Their guardian angel...

“Hey…” she heard from the doorway. Fareeha’s voice was softer, as if she was testing the waters.

“Hey.”

“Angela…”

“I’m sorry,” she cut in. “You were right.” Angela sighed, hands quivering. “I shouldn’t have taken it…”

Fareeha enveloped her in a hug. “I thought I lost you,” she heard in the faintest of whispers. “When I lost sight of you, I feared the worst. When I found you, my heart stopped. You…”

“Fareeha…”

“Please don’t do that to me again,” Fareeha begged.

Fareeha pulled away from her, tears in her eyes. 1 year, this relationship was. They have both been patient with it. Only recently did they start sharing their quarters. Most of their free time, whatever they can get, was with each other.

She loved Fareeha.

Fareeha, who admitted she started falling for Angela after she had found her on the roof all those months ago. Who would play chess with her even if she’s never beaten her in it. Who would take friendly football matches seriously that they, as a couple, had developed a rivalry between Lena and Lucio.

She loved Fareeha.

Fareeha, who would steal a kiss from her before she went to play basketball, would always leave a coffee for her even if she was ignored coming in. Who would play music for her as she read at night.

God how she loved her.

“I’m sorry, Liebchen,” Angela replied, tears now welling up in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, Angela,” Fareeha stroked her hair, giving her a smile. Fareeha placed a kiss on her forehead, Angela wrapping her arms around the taller woman. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“How can you be so sure?” Angela questioned. She wanted to believe her. Believe that everything will be fine.

Her father never lied to her. Not directly. He told her everything would be fine. It was to keep her spirits up, her Grosi told her before she was put on the truck. “You’re going to to a better place, bärli. One where war won’t touch you. Your father and mother will come back, and pick you up from there. You’ll see.”

Her grandparents tried, but they were too old. Too frail. She was sent away with to live with her cousins. To live in safety, even though safety wasn’t guaranteed at this point. She waited though, not knowing if they would ever find her.

Her father didn’t come back. Her mother didn’t come back either.

“Not everything will turn out fine, Fareeha,” she looked at the table with her most recent mistake. Her hesitation that costed them the Talon sniper that could have, should have been caught.

She let Amélie go. She let Sombra come and take Amélie away.

And for what? A handful of bullets to the legs was the price of her hesitation.

“No. Not everything. But we’re a team, Angela,” Fareeha replied, still holding her close. “We can make it better. For you. For me.” Fareeha kissed the top of her head, pulling back to wipe away her tears. “For everyone. Do you trust me?”

She wanted to believe. Believe in Fareeha, who had seen her fair share of pain and sorrow. Who kept standing back up even if she was pushed back down hard.

Angela nodded. “I trust you.”

Fareeha smiled at her, leaning down to give her a kiss. Angela met her halfway, hands burying themselves in the ink black hair. “Good.”

“Good,” she echoed, smiling now as Fareeha moved them closer to the table.

“Let’s get to work on fixing this then,” Fareeha eyed the parts, scratching her head at the shattered pieces. “Athena, pull up the specs for the Sigrun prototype please.”

_“Yes Captain.”_


End file.
